The Night We Met
by GayleForce12
Summary: After their breakup and Cuddy confronting him, House reminisces over their relationship throughout the years: what happened in college and little run-ins with her throughout his tenure at PPTH. Not part of my series.


The Night We Met

A/N: I got struck with inspiration and had to get this down. I will be updating Love Hopes All things soon, some big things coming up with that. This fic was inspired from the song The Night We Met by Lord Huron. Transcript from clinic-duty livejournal, season 7 episode 15.

_Cuddy: You took Vicodin. [House's face falls. He looks guilty and terrified.] When you came to my hospital room that night, you were stoned. You don't take Vicodin because you're scared. You take it so you won't feel pain. Everything you've ever done is to avoid pain — drugs, sarcasm… Keeping everybody at arm's length so no one can hurt you. Pain happens when you care. Y-you can't love someone without making yourself open to their problems, their fears. And you're not willing to do that.  
House: [imploring] I can do better.  
Cuddy: I don't think you can. [They stare at each other.] You'll choose yourself over everybody else over and over again, because that's just who you are. I'm sorry.  
[His faces, as he realizes what she's saying is gut-wrenching. She reaches up and strokes his cheek.]  
House: No. No, no, no. Don't. Don't.  
Cuddy: I thought I could do this.  
House: Don't. Please don't.  
Cuddy: Good-bye, House.  
[She leaves. He stands there, devastated.]_

-Huddy-

I sat in the only place I could think to find relief, a bar downtown. I've visited this place a few times, although, not enough to be recognized. That was the point; I needed to mourn with my mug of mediocre beer without having to worry about hiding my face. I needed to be just another lonely drunkard that came to drown his sorrows in liquid relief. Things had come to a head with Cuddy. She destroyed the wall I had carefully reconstructed between us, after the breakup. Even on Vicodin, she broke through my drug-induced apathy. Damn that woman! I've run my whole life from feelings like these. Having feelings and allowing people close, make you vulnerable. They make you vulnerable to the good but also so much pain. Until recently, I didn't think the possible good could out weight the inevitable bad. The depravity always came, roaring and tearing in like a starving beast. Love, whatever the hell I thought it was, was a shallow act and it always…always fell away. Other than her, my mother was the only one who showed me that kind of true love. But a mother doesn't choose to love, a mother is programmed to love…it's in her biology. The mothers who don't are biologically malformed. But she…she…chose. She knew full well exactly what I was, how my mind functioned, that I was immeasurably broken and she chose to love me, to give me a chance.

**I am not the only traveler  
Who has not repaid his debt  
I've been searching for a trail to follow again  
Take me back to the night we met**

She has done so much for me. The debt I owe her is far greater than anything that I could ever repay. In college, when most girls were desperate for attention, she was above my charm. After our night together and my four terminations, she gave me a chance I didn't deserve. Then when the infarction happened, she took a move from me, which, she used to save my life but respect my wishes to keep the leg. This damn useless leg. Then finally I had her. I had all of her…that beautiful, intelligent, hard-ass of a woman and then… I lost her. I ruined it all, because I'm too damn selfish. This wasn't the first time I've ruined things for us. Our first night…what if our first night had continued into the next day or the next week. I know now that I had nothing to fear that night, she wouldn't have abandoned me. She would have scolded my disregard of the rules and sympathized with my efforts.

**And then I can tell myself  
What the hell I'm supposed to do  
And then I can tell myself  
Not to ride along with you**

It hurt. The thought of what I lost hurts. The presence of her near me burned. I don't know what is more painful…the fact that I screwed it up or the forbidden desire to have her. She wants us to talk. I didn't want to talk…I couldn't. My shame and pain blazed the closer she was. Her incessant desire to care for me, still, after what I did, makes it that much worse.

I managed to avoid her until today. Today was the last straw, that stunning woman chased me down the hall, dying for me to explain. It was under control until she touched me. Those hands that haunt my dreams, that held my hand, that tucked Rachel in, that flowed hot with electricity when we came together. It was more than I could handle. I took her arm and pinned her against the wall and yelled, "You want to know how I feel?" There was fear in her eyes, fear that belonged there because who knows what horrible things I might do.

I didn't want to scare her. I didn't mean to, but when a dam bursts…it's always violent. Her eyes managed to quell the raging waters long enough for me to finally tell her. There came those hands again, prying away my tight grip on her arm. They were gentle and kind and only made me hurt more.

"I know, I'm sorry." She was sorry? What did she have to be sorry about? Nothing. It wasn't her fault. It could never have been her fault. It was always me…it could only be me.

Even my actions apart from her caused her pain, my self-destruction. How else might I react? I loved her…I love her…I don't imagine that pain will ever leave. How do you stop loving the only person who showed you mercy? How do you stop loving someone who placed their trust in you despite it all? You don't and so it's added to the pain of my leg and the thousands of other regrets in my life that I drag along with me.

**I had all and then most of you  
Some and now none of you  
Take me back to the night we met  
I don't know what I'm supposed to do  
Haunted by the ghost of you  
Oh, take me back to the night we met**

After all those years she saw what could be, she saw the value in what most condemned. She operated within the box but her vision was broad enough to see its failings. She hired me, even with my troublesome work history. Some may have thought it was out of pity but not if they had seen her eyes.

I spent a long time looking for pity in those eyes…and never found it. She hated my rebelliousness but respected my efforts. Maybe respected isn't quite what she felt… but she knew the law didn't always allow for what was best for the patient. That's what mattered to her, as it should with any hospital administrator, what is best for the patient.

There were so many times we could have made it work and I ruined them all. Those are the moments that haunt me. The things that could have been. The life we could have had.

-Huddy-

When I was with Stacy, before the infarction, she caught me eyeing Cuddy. I made the excuse that I was protecting her honor, making sure her skirt wasn't see-through. Stacy didn't fall for it, but she let it go. She saw how much we fought and didn't see Cuddy as a threat. The hostility increased at home until I confronted her and she finally broke and asked about our story. I admitted we had a class together and went to a party but she could see that there was more. One day she had finally had enough and I caught her crying over a half-packed suitcase. She couldn't stand the thought of what I was hiding…so I told her. I told her we had slept together, that it was a one night stand, over a decade previous. It was enough for her to stay…but the truth was I always wondered what could have been.

After the infarction, Wilson dragged me to a party Cuddy was having. It would be a small crowd and he said she would be providing the booze. Her taste of the month got drunk. He was rolling in the glory of sleeping with the voluptuous dean of medicine.

"She can really move that body if you know what I mean. And boy is she loud! I have to cover her mouth to keep from waking the neighbors. We've had complaints…none of them from me, of course." She was enraged, kicked him out of her house and sequestered herself in her bedroom. I couldn't let her just sit there dwelling in that asshole's comments…but I couldn't let her know that.

"This isn't the bathroom."

"No, it's not. Get out." There might have been tears running down her face but she was pissed.

I moved closer to her, in a time of drunken weakness. "Shouldn't you be out there entertaining us?"

"Didn't his stories leave you all entertained enough?" She wiped the remainder of her tears away.

"When he's right he's right."

Her eyes met mine, resembling the surface of a lake reflecting a grey stormy sky, and she laughed. "You would know." I took that as a sign it was safe to join her seated on the bed. "Did you come to comfort me?"

"Oh hell no. Like I said, I was looking for the toilet." My eyes drifted around the room. "Why do you date guys like that anyway?" She shrugged her shoulders. Some hair had fallen from behind her ear into her face. I swept it away, gently touching her face in the attempt. "You always had shit taste in men."

Her face lifted to meet mine. "Thank you." She responded bitterly, but there was a measure of gratefulness there.

I couldn't stand to keep her gaze and looked away. "I'm just stating a fact."

Before I had the chance to get up she grabbed my hand. "Stay."

I knew it was the alcohol talking. She was always more vulnerable when she was drunk. "I do have shit taste in men." She touched my cheek, looked up into my eyes, and kissed me.

It was tender and cautious; as if to test dangerous waters. It was dangerous. She had been hurt by me so many times but I kissed her back and the kisses continued. Her tongue traced the inside of my lip, and she tasted of the sweet cocktail she had been consuming earlier. Just like the drink, she was intoxicating. The fire between us roared and our skin burned hot. Her hand delicately ran up my shirt to my bare chest. I knew where this would go if I didn't stop her. She wouldn't forgive herself…

"Okay, I better go find that bathroom."

That was it. It was over…never to be spoken of again. I could have asked her about it…I could have at least tried.

-Huddy-

Why did I wait so long? Why did I shut myself off from her for so long? I could see how bad she wanted to try when the gunman shot up her office. Those eyes weren't just for the safety of the other hostages, they were for me.

She invaded my office because she wanted me. "We both know where this is going." She told me that day. I should have kissed her. I should have shown her how bad I always wanted to kiss her. What did I do? I grabbed her breast because it was the next logical step…because I was afraid.

All those years I waited, the walls got higher. Then the infarction and the drugs drove me deeper into the pit of misery I dug for myself. Why was I such a moron...

**When the night was full of terrors  
And your eyes were filled with tears  
When you had not touched me yet  
Oh, take me back to the night we met**

She wasn't just some one-night-stand. I didn't just share a bed with her one night in college, there was a connection. We shared an entire class. She was the typical over-achiever: eyes locked on the board, her ears hanging from his every word, and her pencil scrawling notes in short-hand. There was one of those in every class. The one who's hand was raised to answer every question, who took classes far beyond their year. There was something different about her. It was more than a class, it was more than academics for her…she had passion. She saw the box of the world, with all its cracks, and thought it was worth the trouble to fix those imperfections.

I sat in the row behind her and one seat over in a large lecture hall. The professor went on and on about glands, hormone levels, and sugar levels as she feverishly scrawled down all the notes she could. It was a game of mine to interrupt her flow of thought.

"What if it was another condition causing the disparities?" Her intent gaze would lighten with intrigue and a sigh would escape her lips before she began writing again.

"What if what we are perceiving as the cause is really the effect?" It was our…or rather my game.

The first test approached and we sat through a monotonous test review. She was answering the questions under her breath and reassuring herself with everyone she got right, taking notes on the others. The lines in her face grew the longer the class went on. By the end, she had several pages of things to study.

"You have a long night ahead of you." I spouted as we maneuvered our way out of class. She was irritated but I liked her best like that. She was confident and feisty. She worked for the respect she held by every professor, even though she didn't have to. She was beautiful, her way of dressing was far from a nun but it was modest. It wasn't the low tops and tight skirts she sported now.

"I'm a quick study. It won't take me long."

I closed the distance between us, testing the limits of her personal space. "So you have time tonight?" The crowd had thinned out from around us when she turned to face me with an arrogant smile.

"Why? Are you trying to ask me out?"

"Of course not, you're an undergrad. I'm just making sure you'll make it for your beddy-bye-time."

-Huddy-

She did fine on that test of course. There was no doubt she would, but not long after that was our first meeting with the professor about our final projects.

When she stepped out from his office, with her books clutched to her chest.

"Bad meeting?"

"What's it to you?" She spat shoving her way past me.

I inquired about her project; it was clever and ambitious, as I expected from her.

"He didn't like it?"

"He told me it was enthusiastic but I shouldn't overexert myself…to let someone else handle it, like Jason." Her anger flared.

"Jason's an imbecile. If you think you can pull that off then go for it."

"Oh, I will!" I thought her eyes might burn holes in the floor. "Why doesn't he respect me? I'm outperforming most of his graduate students."

"He doesn't see you like that." I felt the urge to reach out and touch her but I also wanted my arm to stay attached.

"I gathered that. Thank you, Sherlock."

"Some people aren't willing to see beyond their own assumptions. They have an idea of who you are and that's all they will ever see." I had years of experience with that. John always saw me as a failure and heathen. My mother always saw my innocence. Both ideas were lies and neither saw the truth nor did either idea help me.

"I guess I just hoped, if I showed my ability, it would break through to them."

I couldn't stand the weakness in her voice. She should never speak like that. She was more than that. "It won't." There it was, that passion…that fury.

"Thanks for the pep talk." She huffed, pushing her way by me.

I offered her one more bit of advice before she left the hall.

-Huddy-

Later that semester, I caught her tucked away in a corner of the library with a table to herself, surrounded by books.

"Exterminator here sent to eradicate the book worms."

"Look who's here! I didn't know you knew this place existed." Her eyes were tired and strained, she wore warm cozy clothes.

I could see all the articles and books focused on her endocrinology project. "You haven't given up on that yet?"

"Never."

"Why do you try so hard? You're not going to change his mind." I straddled the back of the chair next to her.

"You don't think I can do it either?"

Her eyes bore into mine, challenging me with everything she could muster. I wouldn't back down, not to anyone.

"Is that what I said?" There was a long silence while she tried to regain her concentration, but it was futile.

"You said I have to use what I have to change their mind. What did you mean?"

"Cuddy, he expects you to be just another bimbo pretending she can make it as a doctor. You can play that part."

"I am not and I will not!" The students around us shushed her loud declaration.

"It doesn't matter if you are or not. If you entertain his fantasies then you can work him however you please." I could tell I had laid it on a bit thick, but I couldn't help it. She was beautiful and it was an asset she didn't need to ignore. She began to pick up her books to make a hasty retreat from the pervert.

"You're disgusting."

"You can entertain his fantasies however you want. You don't have to give him anything. You just have to control him."

"If I use that I just further his stereotype."

"Who cares if it furthers what you want. That's like a surgeon not using his naturally well developed fine motor skills to repair a nicked artery. Use what you have." I watched the realization hit her. Her eyes lit up, just like they did in class when she learned the answer to a puzzling question. "I have to get going. Too many nerds in here for me."

The truth was I had hours of studying to do. I was behind on my project and had my own pages of notes to study for upcoming tests.

-Huddy-

She had lost the camisoles she wore to hide her bosom. She exchanged slacks for form-fitting skirts and piled on the rouge. Her entrance into the room drew attention. Attention, I didn't like her having. Those cavemen should have noticed her before. She wasn't the type of girl who fell for attention from sex-crazed frat boys.

"New wardrobe?" The scenery from my seat had greatly improved since her wardrobe change.

"Let's just say I'm testing a hypothesis." She turned around to face me. "I have a meeting with the professor right after class. You should meet me after, so we can discuss the results." Her eyes were sultry and her smile flirtatious.

"That act won't work on all males. Sorry to burst your bubble." But that was a lie, for just a moment her façade had overtaken me.

Of course, I was right and from then on that sexist professor and any other man she needed, were wrapped around her little finger. It wasn't just the professors but her colleagues too. The ex frat boys crowded around her and offered to carry her books. The girls that relied on their looks to pass, enveloped her into their groups. He had created a monster.

Whispers of end-of-semester parties began to circulate and Jason was chatting her up. She blushed and giggled in response to his invite. What had he done? She was above them. She was more than that. I couldn't stand the bull shit that was piling up before me…so I stormed off. I was determined to go to that party and run those assholes away.

-Huddy-

Thinking back on the freedom of your college days alerts you of your age. It wasn't easy but it was your first taste of true freedom. That was epitomized at the college parties. This one was a dance but there would be plenty of booze and plenty of assholes waiting to prey on women. She didn't need my help but she didn't need the trouble of running them off herself when she could have me for company.

The room was crowded and the music was blaring. When I finally found her she was leaving the dance floor with that sleazy buffoon. She looked gorgeous with her tight pink dress and temptingly low neckline. Jason scurried off to get her another drink.

"You see what he's doing, right?" I ask as I approach her. "You're another trophy for his dick."

"You really know how to flatter a girl. What are you doing here anyway?" Little did I know but she knew. She was smarter than I gave her credit for. She was always more than I gave her credit for.

"The better question is what are you doing here with Jason the imbecile?"

"He asked me." We had to stand close to hear each other over the music. I cracked a couple jokes about some couples around us and she laughed, showing that beautiful smile of her's.

"What are you doing with my girl?" His tone was sharp, dripping with jealousy. Cuddy was less than amused, Neanderthals weren't her type.

"I wasn't aware she was property."

Jason pressed himself closer, bowing up like a bull ready to charge. "Well she came here with me and you need to back off, Gregory."

His cronies snickered, but he couldn't have played into my hand any better. "I'm just talking to a classmate, that's not against the law."

"Just crawl back in the hole you climbed out of." The more he spoke the less amused Cuddy became, which went unnoticed by him until she told him to bug off.

"You know after all this time you still haven't introduced yourself."

"You know my name. You know me. We're a bit past that don't you think?"

"I only know your name through the complaints of others in the class. For all I know, it could be an alias" She brandished a smile and offered her hand. I gave in. What else could I do in response to the beautiful woman standing before me?

"Hello, my name is Greg House. I'm a med student and I hope to specialize in nephrology or infectious disease and who may you be?" It was more than a handshake. Her hands were soft and her fingers were long and thin. Though the room held a bit of a chill, our skin blazed on contact.

"Oh, you know me." She dragged me out to the dance floor and she moved to the beat of the rock ballad. She was free and sexy but I crossed my arms, refusing to dance with "strange women" that I didn't know. She just smiled.

"I'm Lisa Cuddy and I'm pre-med. It's nice to finally meet you." She pulled my arms free and we began to dance.

"Okay, Miss Cuddy." She pulled me closer, causing my heart to slam against my chest. "You can call me Lisa." Her eyes were full of suggestion.

"I prefer Cuddy. Lisa could be any bimbo's name and that's not you."

The next song was a slow dance. I couldn't tell you which song it was, the lyrics didn't matter, the tune didn't matter when that vixen was in my arms. I could smell the musk of her perfume and the sweetness of her shampoo. Her arms draped around my shoulders and her head lay on my chest. I was thankful for the volume of the music so she wouldn't hear my heart thundering. Her skin was hot under my hands at the cut out in the back of her dress.

She looked up at me, her chest rose and fell with her rapidly. We kissed; her lips were soft and luscious. She pulled me down into her, deepening the kiss. As if I could want her any more. The song ended and we were left there in each other's arms.

"You want to get out of here?" I asked her breathlessly, our foreheads rested against each other.

-Huddy-

In my apartment she shrugged off my leather jacket, revealing her bare shoulders and deep cut neckline. My mind imagined what wonders lay just beneath that thin fabric. There was a fire in her eyes as she approached me and began unbuttoning my shirt. Our lips met in a desperate crash. My hands wandered her body, as I guided her down the hall. Pinning her against my door as I attempted to unlock it. Her hot breath swept across the nape of my neck. Oh, I wanted her. I wanted every part of her. There were just this door and a few small pieces of fabric between our destination but I would take it slow and savor it.

**I had all and then most of you  
Some and now none of you  
Take me back to the night we met  
I don't know what I'm supposed to do  
Haunted by the ghost of you  
Take me back to the night we met**

That was one hell of a night. I had plenty of women in college but none of them left me yearning for more like she did, more sex and more of her. It all began by me trying to annoy her. It was all a game but now it is so much more than that...or at least I wish it was. I ruined it all. What I would give to go back to that night, or rather, the next day and give her a call.

What could we have had, if I had the guts to call her that night? What could we have had? Neither of us would have been as good at our job but then again maybe we would have been happier. I wasn't as broken then. It was enough to be away from John that I could operate without much problem. Would she have caught the infarction before it reached muscle death? If we had been together, would I have trusted her enough and been secure enough that I'd let her chop off my leg? Would we have raised Rachel together or had our own children?

I never dreamed of getting married or having a family. It wasn't in the cards for me. Families were a sham and trapped people in lies, with people they are better off without. But could I have spent the last couple of decades with her and been happy? Would it have been worth it? Before my leg-

"Sir, we're closing up."

"What?" It was the barkeep, who pulled me out of my revelry. The mug of beer in my hand was half drunk and warm. I had sat there for hours.

"We're closing up. Do you have a ride?"

"I'll get a cab."

-House-

I stood on the curb waiting for my ride. I wish I could go back to that first night, or many other times after, and slap myself. Maybe…no…it's too late for maybes. Maybes are for times of hope but there exists none for us. Maybes are for the future, but that was gone too. What could have been…what I wish could be, will always haunt me.

A/N: Sorry for the sad fic…but sometimes I like a good heart-wrenching story. Please leave a review.


End file.
